Beneath the Fur and Fury
by Working-On-Sanity
Summary: Gokudera never realized why no one else saw Uri's beauty, the loveliness that was cleverly concealed behind her shaggy hair. But Uri's true personality could never escape Gokudera's desperate grasp. Fluff drabble, Gokudera/female human Uri.


**BENEATH THE FUR AND FURY**

**Summary: **Gokudera never realized why no one else saw Uri's beauty, the loveliness that was cleverly concealed behind her shaggy hair. But Uri's true personality could never escape Gokudera's desperate grasp. Gokudera/female human Uri.

**Author's Note: **This is something new for me, but I really wanted to try it. The mentality shown in this story toward Uri is pretty much _Calvin and Hobbes-_esque. Is Uri really just a cat that only Gokudera sees as a human girl, or is she really a girl that the rest of the world sees as a cat? Just like no one knows if Hobbes is really a tiger that everyone sees as a toy, or if he's really a toy that only Calvin sees as a real tiger.

In all the scenes with other people around, Uri will be described as a cat, because that's how they see her. But alone with Gokudera, she will be described as a human, because that's how Gokudera perceives her. It seems stupid now that I'm finished with this, but I enjoyed writing it. I think a human Uri would basically be a female version of Gokudera. But, you know––blonde. _Me-ow._

* * *

**_-_oOo-**

"Grab him!"

"Watch out––he's mad!"

"Hayato! Control that animal of yours!"

Tsuna cowered in the corner, huddling against the wall for protection and squawking in horror every time Gokudera swept past him in pursuit of Uri.

Uri's tiny claws poked menacingly from the tips of her fat toes, and each of her muscles seemed to be a coiled spring. She vaulted into the air in high jumps, leaping onto the table to scatter the silverware and just as effortlessly bouncing off to slide across the slick linoleum floor.

"I've got you!" Gokudera crouched to the ground before throwing his weight forward, barely snagging Uri's lithe body. He wrapped his arms around her flank, yanking her closer and pinning her with his knee. She did not hesitate to spit loud, sharp hisses from between her small teeth, flailing her oversized paws in a crazed frenzy to free herself from Gokudera's grasp. As Gokudera shifted to better restrain Uri, one of her claws grazed his knuckle, and he instinctively drew back with a muffled cry. Uri seized the opportunity to wriggle away, but Gokudera hastily decided to abandon sucking on his wounded finger to grab her tail.

"Hayato, you pathetic excuse for a man!" Bianchi jerked open a drawer, whipping out a large spatula and brandishing it above her head. Her narrowed eyes traced every movement of the seemingly conjoined cat and boy, and in one swift motion, she brought the thin edge of the spatula down with a resounding _crack. _

"What th––_sis!_ You were supposed to aim for Uri! That hurt!" Still clinging to Uri's long tail, Gokudera protectively cupped his palm over the crown of his head. He glared accusingly up at her through his tangled fringe, and Bianchi unsympathetically closed her eyes behind her thick goggles, folding her arms over her large chest.

"I didn't miss my target," she reasoned, turning away. She snatched a dish towel from the dining table, flipping it toward Haru.

"You and Kyoko can finish cleaning up here," she said airily. Ignoring Haru's squeak of surprise, Bianchi meandered away, her hair trailing behind her in the breeze like a wispy curtain. Haru glanced down at the towel, before furiously slamming her fists against her hips and turning to Gokudera with a scowl marring her delicate features.

"You make such a mess!" she scolded sharply, her eyebrows furrowing to shade her large eyes. "If you didn't scare that poor kitty so much, maybe he would stay put. Did you ever think of that, Gokudera?"

Gokudera looped his arm beneath Uri's forelegs, hefting her up to hold her against his side. Astonishingly docile when Gokudera was receiving the blame for the commotion, Uri willingly allowed herself to be dangled against Gokudera's hip. She daintily rested her large paws on his wrist, not daring to extend her claws into his skin.

"How about _you _clean up the kitchen?" Haru continued challengingly, leaning forward threateningly into Gokudera's face. He drew himself backward, instantly regretting having made such a cowardly move.

"Tenth!" Gokudera jerked his head to the side to squint over his shoulder, wincing as the Storm flames lining Uri's ears singed his arm. Absentmindedly raising her up higher to squeeze her furry cheek against his neck, he waved, urging Tsuna to come closer.

"Tenth, can you talk some sense into this woman?" he asked belligerently, earning a depressed groan from both Tsuna and Haru. "I have to go put Uri back in his box. That's the only way we'll ever get any peace."

"That will be fine, Gokudera," Tsuna said, not really agreeing, but merely stepping safely away from the danger of offending Gokudera. His mouth twitched in his characteristic expression of something between a smile and a tearful frown.

"Thanks. See you in a minute." Without further extending the weak conversation, Gokudera hauled Uri away, the kitten sputtering indignantly while patting her paws against his arm.

**-oOo-**

"I don't see why you have to act up all the time."

Gokudera flopped over on the bed, dropping his torso across the edge of the mattress until he hung halfway off. His hair brushed against the floor, and he stared ahead, the entire room seeming upside down.

"Well, what do you expect?" Primly, Uri stretched her long legs, curling her toes as she skimmed her soft fingertips down her smooth white thighs. "If it isn't bad enough that you bat me around like a rubber ball, you have to keep calling me a _guy_, too. What's your problem?"

"It's intentional, trust me." Gokudera pointedly gazed at Uri's prominent bulging breasts, and she pressed her red lips together in an annoyed pout, made uncomfortably warm by his close scrutiny. "As if anyone could miss that. You'd have to be _blind_ to overlook anything as big as those. Maybe even dead."

"It seems like a lot of people do overlook them." Uri rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner, shifting from side to side and finally pressing her elbows to her knees. "Isn't it weird? I'm getting used to it, though."

Gokudera's mouth bent in a puzzled frown. "Used to what?"

Uri jutted her lower lip, blowing a gusty sigh upwards to send her short bangs swirling across her forehead. "You know what I'm talking about. It's like that Kyoko girl. Everyone dotes on her because she's so cute and little. As if she's a pet or something. I hate it when people do that to me. Patting me on the head and talking to me like I'm a baby who can't understand anything they say. Sometimes I want to smack whoever does that to me."

She squeezed her white fingers into a strong fist, her manicured nails biting into her smooth pink palms. "It's humiliating, that's what it is, being treated like a child."

Gokudera nodded, his face flushing a dark red from his being upside down. "Haru calls you a kitten. It's more disgusting than anything else. It's the worst nickname I've ever heard. I mean, really. A kitten! You're vicious. More of a tiger than a kitten."

"Well, if I must be a beast, I'd rather be a cat than a dog." Gracefully, Uri stood up, her loose mop of shaggy blonde hair falling in chunks across her nape. Smirking, she reached behind herself to straighten the unruly rumples, thrusting her chest out and curving her back to make the slope of her rear arch.

"Why? Why's a cat any better than a dog?" Gokudera warily watched as Uri advanced, his eyes tracing the pattern of her footsteps. A feral, feline grin stretched her mouth as she lifted her shoulders, effortlessly clambering onto the bed alongside Gokudera. Her weight made the mattress sink, jostling Gokudera from his comfortable position. Agreeably, he rolled to his side, giving Uri more room to lay beside him.

"Well..." Uri said, humming the word thoughtfully. "A cat is small and beautiful. She can climb almost anything, and her paws are so perfect and dainty. A cat washes herself, always trying to stay clean and presentable. She doesn't need people to look after her, and she needs no one to depend on. She can fend for herself, no matter what, and she has enough pride to do what she wants to, whenever she wishes."

"I guess if you put it that way, cats do sound better." Gokudera pushed his elbow into the wrinkled covers, propping his chin in his palm. His eyebrows lowered to shade his eyes, and he frowned pensively.

"What's wrong, Hayato?" Uri asked, her voice low and smooth. She languidly extended her hand, stroking the crook of her forefinger along Gokudera's wrist. He flinched at the contact, but willingly allowed her to continue petting him.

"Don't call me that," he said absentmindedly. Then louder, as if he had been thinking to himself, he said, "I was just wondering about some things, that's all. It's none of your business, anyway."

"You don't have to be so grouchy about it," Uri reprimanded, poking her fingernail into Gokudera's skin as if in punishment. "And if you're worried about your precious little _Sistema_ C.A.I., I'm sure it'll work fine."

There was a long silence before Gokudera spoke, and when he did, his tone was light and sarcastically cheerful.

"Hey... melon-head?"

"What is it?" Curiously, Uri lifted her gaze to stare into Gokudera's eyes.

"Why don't you just shut up?"

Rather than start with surprise at Gokudera's hostility, Uri lowered her chin, a grin thinning her red lips. "Oh, please, Hayato. You're so hateful. You big crybaby."

Gokudera stiffened, glancing down at Uri suspiciously. He said nothing as she discreetly scooted closer, the quilt bunching around the contour of her naked body. Almost apologetically, Uri tilted her head to rest her warm cheek against Gokudera's shoulder, the crooked cut ends of her tousled clumps of hair tickling along Gokudera's jaw.

"You really don't have to worry about anything," she said in a murmur, coyly peering up at Gokudera from beneath her thick black lashes. "You're actually kind of smart, you know. Whatever stupid invention you come up with or puzzles you figure out, I'm sure they'll work great. Especially since I'm helping you with it," she added smugly.

"Hmm." Gokudera only gave a quiet hum in reply, staring stonily ahead at the empty white wall. The faintest sense of guilt pricked Uri's mind, and remorsefully, she edged closer, pressing against Gokudera to shape her figure into the curve of his body.

"Hayato? Um, Gokudera? Come on," Uri said, a note of desperation entering her plaintive voice. "I didn't intend to make you mad. I'm sorry. Just come on, look at me."

She leaned against him further, pleadingly running her palm along his arm, briefly squeezing the slight bulges of muscle. Her gentle hand continued sliding upwards, pausing frequently to play with the flap of his shirt pocket or pick at the threads of a loose button. Just when Gokudera considered nudging her away with his elbow, unable to tolerate the stimulating touches any longer, Uri slyly dipped her cold fingers beneath his collar, rubbing the back of his neck in a manner that made all the anger and tension drain from his body.

"Ugh... Uri, you're such a _brat_," Gokudera said menacingly. The insult was not growled or shouted, but rather breathed out in a shaky sigh. He limply sagged against the thick bedpost, propping himself in a half-upright position.

"So are you," Uri retorted cheerfully, her mood lightened by Gokudera's reaction. She smoothly rolled to her back, folding her arms behind her head and stretching her limber legs over the bed. She seemed almost catlike as she threw her flexible back into a curve, nearly lifting herself from the mattress in the intensity of her soothing stretches.

"I didn't mean to scratch you earlier," Uri admitted hesitantly, not wanting to apologize for her deed, but wishing to put some form of noise into the silence. She studied the springs lining the bottom of the top bunk above them, thoughtfully chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"Are you... all right?" she asked finally, her ruby eyes flickering as he looked at him.

"I'm fine." Gokudera looked down at his hand sleepily, surveying the thin red line that cut jaggedly along the side of his knuckle. "It doesn't hurt, anyway. You need to clip your fingernails, though. What would you do if you were in the middle of a battle and you broke a nail? You'd pitch a fit, that's what you'd do," he said before Uri managed to reply.

"All I did was say I'm sorry!" Uri yelped. "What kind of man can't handle a little bit of scratching and biting?"

"What are you insinuating?" asked Gokudera suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. "That I'm not a man?"

"Of course not," said Uri in protest, pressing her lips together to hold her disbelieving frown steady. A laugh bubbled in her throat, and she sucked in a breath, refusing to giggle. "I would never suggest something like _that, _Hayato. But, if you really wanted to prove it, I wouldn't refuse..."

"Prove what?"

"That you're a man, as you claim." Uri dipped her head with false politeness, her sandy hair falling over her scalp like stalks of wheat being ruffled by the wind. When she looked up, she lost control of her fake frown, and grinned toothily, mischief glowing in her freckled face.

"So how about it, Hayato?" She flipped over to lay on her stomach, her chin inches from Gokudera's knee. Idly, she trailed her finger along his leg, with each movement pushing herself closer. Gokudera inhaled sharply as Uri tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, using him for support as she raised up. When she returned her upper half to the bed, her breasts fit neatly between Gokudera's spread legs.

"Uri!" Gokudera choked on her name, instinctively bringing his hands down against her shoulder blades. She arched her spine into his palms, pushing against his abdomen as if to hide her face in the wrinkles of his oversized shirt. She rubbed her cheek against his chest, much like a kitten starved for affection.

"_Nyao_... let's see what can be done here," Uri murmured, her eyelids fluttering shut. She moved her elbow until it rested on Gokudera's thigh, looping her other arm around his waist. Her practiced fingers stroked along his wide neon belt, occasionally slipping under the hem of his denim jeans to stroke the soft skin beneath.

"Uri, you stupid melon-head, will you cut it out?" Though Gokudera sounded furious, he made no attempts to wriggle away. He remained still in Uri's embrace, subtly edging closer to accept her caresses. Uri smiled against his stomach, her lipstick leaving scarlet smudges over his shirt.

"Oh, please, Hayato," she said chidingly, her voice muffled. "You mustn't pretend you're too prudent to enjoy anything. Only heaven knows how many times you've _asked _me to––"

"I thought I told you to shut up," Gokudera interrupted, shoving his fingers into Uri's hair to press her face against his stomach. He scraped the satiny locks away from her forehead and rested his laced fingers on her nape, holding her in place.

"Do you think I'd listen to you?" Uri asked incredulously. She snuggled closer, emptying her lungs of a low, husky sigh and seeming content to just lay halfway on top of Gokudera. Her arms relaxed around Gokudera's middle, and she slowly lowered her hands to cup them against his backside.

"Uri," Gokudera said warningly, casting a leery glance toward the closed door. Uri giggled, her thumbs tracing the seams of Gokudera's back pockets.

"Every day, you push a little bit further, don't you?" Gokudera asked sternly, but the affection lining his voice could not be mistaken. He raised his foot from the bed, draping his leg over Uri's wide hips. "The Tenth doesn't approve of girls like you, remember?"

"And what do you mean by 'girls like me'?" Uri tilted her head upward to peer into Gokudera's flushed, tired-looking face. His expression seemed tight and drawn, and Uri felt almost guilty for having teased him so relentlessly. Even her attempts at luring him into intimacy seemed foolish and for naught.

"The Tenth barely notices me," she said quietly. "I'm sure he doesn't care what goes on away from him."

"But he does," Gokudera said emphatically. As if the thought of angering Tsuna worried him, he fidgeted briefly against Uri before gently prying her arms from around his waist. Holding her wrists, he stared unhappily down into her red eyes, ignoring the way her mouth pursed in a heart-shaped pout.

"You're a good girl, Uri," he said in a confidential whisper, as if afraid some eavesdropper would hear him speaking to Uri using such odd, tender words. "And because you are, I know you'll be able to wait awhile. If the Tenth and Yamamoto find out about anything, we'll be in a deep mess. So you'll have to hold out until all this trouble blows over. Okay?"

"I hate you, Hayato." Uri's delicate features pinched into an ugly indignant scowl, and Gokudera felt rather triumphant at how flustered she appeared, knowing she understood his intentions.

"No, you can't hate me," Gokudera said calmly, releasing his grip on Uri's slim wrists. She awkwardly dropped her arms, glancing away as she slowly disentangled herself from Gokudera. Suddenly annoyed and feeling hot and sticky, she shoved his leg off her hips, pushing herself upright.

"Well, if that's all you needed to say, I'll be going, now," she said with a dainty sniff, raising her chin haughtily. Her abrupt change of attitude suggested she believed Gokudera had been the one goading her into submission, rather than the opposite. Her body moving in an almost fluid motion, Uri rolled from the bed, the frame squeaking beneath her.

"I suppose I'll take a bath or something," she said nonchalantly, raising her arms high before tucking them behind her head. She paced toward the door of the small adjoining bathroom, then paused, as if considering. She craned her neck to squint behind her at Gokudera, the skin between her eyes bunching into tiny creases as she wrinkled her freckled nose.

"You stink, too, Hayato," she said casually, her thin blonde eyebrow quirking. "I can only suggest that you shower before latching onto the Tenth."

Gokudera lowered his head, blankly staring at Uri. "I stink? Is that a problem? It's not a stink, anyway. It's the scent of masculinity. That's why Yamamoto smells so nice. Pansies don't stink."

Turning away, Uri teasingly waggled her fingers over her shoulder. "If _that's _the smell of masculinity, I may think about staying single for the rest of my life. It smells like seven flavors of rot. Goodness, it smells so bad that I even _tasted _it. That usually only happens with old eggs and such."

"I've told you twice, and I'll tell you again," Gokudera said snidely. "Shut up, Uri." He was too weary to bother arguing over the matter. He knew well that Uri always tried to hide her embarrassment below a mask of biting words and insults, and only that morsel of comfort kept him from snapping at her.

He slid to the edge of the bed, briefly dangling his legs over the side before standing. A shiver trailed up his back as his bare feet met the chilly floor, and he clamped his arms around himself before following Uri into the bathroom. She sarcastically held the door open for him, as if beckoning a princess into the confines of a carriage.

"Come on," she urged impatiently as Gokudera swept past her. "I'll wash your hair for you. And I'll leave the door open while I'm doing it, so you can air out without having me suffocate."

Gokudera rolled his eyes expressively, fumbling with the small button of his shirt collar. "A bottle of sunshine, that's you," he muttered. "Just you remember. This counts as... well, it counts as doing something. And I'm not bathing with you ever again. Or... at least, I won't until we get back home."

Uri plucked a blue rubber band from the sink counter, twisting her hair into a small tail and securing it in place. She paid no heed to Gokudera's claim; she knew all she had to do was look at him in just the right angle, and he would do whatever she wished.

_It really isn't that hard, _she thought, through the mirror watching Gokudera struggle to extricate himself from his shirt. _Men like him have strange brains. All it takes is a woman's talent and the manipulation skills of cat, mixed up into a beautiful body, and I can have them doing anything. _

_Maybe sometimes, though, _she silently admitted, _they do it "just because." Just because it makes me shut up? Or just because... it makes me happy._

She combed her fingers through her bangs, fluffing them against her cheeks. "Hey, Hayato?"

"Hmm?" Gokudera replied absentmindedly, finally succeeding in shrugging out of his baggy blouse. He discarded it in the corner, steadily working on unfastening his beaded necklace.

"Do you do things––things you don't want to do––just because it makes me happy?"

Puzzled, Gokudera shifted his gaze to the mirror, observing how the face of Uri's reflection smiled hopefully.

"No," he said flatly, untangling the clasp of his necklace from a few stray wisps of his hair. "Why?"

Disgusted, Uri snapped the knob of the water faucet, oblivious to how pleasant the rush of cool water felt over her sweaty palms.

_Yup, _she thought sourly, _men. Sometimes I want to bash his skull inside out, but even then, I know that I can't. Because no matter what, I still... kind of like him. Just kind of. Just enough to keep him around, that is._

**_-_oOo-**

"Hayato?"

Impatiently, Bianchi tapped her knuckles against the door, resting her weight on one foot and pressing her fist against her hip. Irately, she blew a thread of pink hair from her forehead, feeling her chin wrinkle in a scowl.

"I––I––uh, what do you want, sis?" Gokudera's voice shook noticeably, sounding hollow from inside the bedroom he shared with his cat. Hardly had he finished speaking when a loud, forced _meow _split through the air, making Bianchi cringe in surprise.

"What are you doing in there?" Bianchi asked sharply, not ceasing in her barrage of smacking her hand against the door. The incessant sound of slapping rang through the silence, echoing in her ears and bouncing through the wide hallway.

"Hayato, that Sawada boy sent me up here to see what's going on," she said sternly, her voice rising. "Now let me in before I come in by myself."

"Um, can you wait a second?" Gokudera asked forlornly. "I'm... I'm changing clothes. So go away. I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Oh, I don't think so," Bianchi muttered. She squeezed her fingers into her tight side pocket, fishing around for a moment before withdrawing a bent bobby pin. Pressing her tongue against the roof of her mouth in concentration, she gripped the doorknob to hold it steady. She gingerly inserted the blunt end of the clip, tentatively wiggling it against the metal interior of the hidden lock. A barely audible click alerted her of her success, and she smoothly returned the bobby pin to her pocket before twisting the cool doorknob. The heavy door swung open forcefully before she could reach out to stop it, and it met the wall with a bang before bouncing away, shuddering from the impact.

Gokudera jerked upright at the sight of his sister, his shoulders drawn up and his expression compressing into a confused agape frown. Uri perched on the crown of his head, her tiny tongue stroking the lobe of Gokudera's ear. A damp towel was spread over Gokudera's lap, and a trail of wet paw prints led from the bathroom to the corner of the cot on which he sat.

"Do you mind explaining what's going on?" Bianchi asked, her eyes glowing like hard stones behind the orange-tinted lenses of her goggles. "I heard you screaming and groaning like you were dying. I should have guessed you were giving the cat a bath, though."

"Don't say it like it's my fault!" Gokudera protested, attempting to pry Uri from his head. Her claws dug into his scalp, and he had little hope of removing her before she considered her task of "washing" him to be finished. Daintily, Uri curled her long, thin tail around his neck, the faint brown spots mottling her fur seeming to wave as her loose coat of fur creased around her body.

"Uri was the one who asked for a bath. She practically did kill me," Gokudera said accusingly, pointing to the kitten. His forefinger brushed against her muzzle, and a gravelly purr rattled from her throat as he accidentally rubbed her patch of long whiskers.

"Honestly, Hayato," Bianchi said, a sigh stretching out her words. "Don't even try to say the cat made all that racket. Be a man and take the blame."

Gokudera could not think of a suitable reply to such an order. "I told you why we were making all that noise," he said testily, glaring coldly at Bianchi. "And what's all this constant talk of people thinking I'm not a man? Stop looking at me," he added sourly. "Don't you need to go downstairs to tell the Tenth everything's okay?"

"I guess so," Bianchi said, unfazed by Gokudera's aggression. "But I think the Sawada has been worried about how much time you're spending alone. Perhaps you should go tell him yourself. Get out of the room for awhile, maybe put the cat back in his box. Really, you stay up here way too long. You should go out with your friends."

"We're in the middle of a war, sis," Gokudera said sarcastically. "I'm not going out to play with my friends. Anyway, I need to be alone. I couldn't study if a bunch of people were around me, talking and milling all over the place."

"Your friends think about you a bit more than that," Bianchi reminded. "That's why the Sawada boy and Takeshi haven't been running up here every five minutes to check on you. They've both asked how you've been doing with your training."

"Yeah?" Gokudera said casually. As if miffed that Gokudera's attention had wandered from her to focus on Bianchi, Uri batted the fat pink pad of her paw against his cheek. She mewled desperately, the sound so shrill and demanding that both Gokudera and Bianchi flinched.

"Like I suggested," Bianchi said dryly, recovering, "put the cat in his box. Come on downstairs with me, okay? I'll get you something to drink, and we'll go see how everyone else is doing."

"Fine," Gokudera muttered, relenting. Nothing, except for that plea from his sister, could have convinced him to leave the room.

"I'll be out in a minute," he said nonchalantly, waving Bianchi away. "You can go on."

Bianchi gazed at him critically, her glossy mouth bending in a frown. "All right, Hayato."

She turned away, padding silently through the door. Gokudera craned his neck to watch her shadow stretch along the wall of the hallway, and after a moment, the last sign of her presence faded.

"Sorry, Uri," he apologized stiffly. Uri's folded arms felt heavy resting on the top of his head, her belly and her plump breasts pressed against his back. In her position of kneeling behind him, she discreetly nudged her hand beneath the hem of his shirt, morosely tickling the soft skin of his stomach.

"Don't worry," Uri said, carelessly dismissing his mild display of regret. "Go on. I'm sure the Tenth and the baseball guy want to see you. You've hardly gone down for meals at all lately. I think maybe the _Sistema _C.A.I is becoming a little too important, eh?"

"Yeah. It's the _Sistema _C.A.I that's making sure I don't leave the room," Gokudera drawled. As if she had not heard him, Uri nuzzled her short nose against Gokudera's neck, greedily inhaling the light scent of his washed hair. She buried her slender fingers in the damp gray tangles, combing them away from his nape and arranging every strand with painstaking slowness.

"Sis will hang me if I don't hurry," Gokudera said reluctantly, tensing as Uri wrapped her slim arms around his neck. He leaned forward, and instead of releasing him, Uri only clung more tightly.

"Uri, do you really want to see me die?" he asked tersely. He struggled to scoot to the edge of the bed, but Uri's weight pinned him in place. The lowest of sultry whimpers climbed from her throat, and she hastened to squeeze her legs around his hips, further preventing him from leaving.

"You just told me I could go. Get off of me, already!"

"I can't help it, Hayato," Uri mumbled against his ear. "I can't wait. I'm coming with you. It won't bother the Tenth or the baseball guy to have me around."

In any other situation, Gokudera would have argued, but with Bianchi awaiting his arrival downstairs, he could not allot himself time to ponder. With a determined sigh, he stretched his arms behind himself to cup his hands beneath Uri's thighs, and rocked himself forward until his heels met the floor. Uri held on, digging her fingers into his shoulders for support.

"Come on," Gokudera said, shaking his head. "I guess it's better to face everyone with you than without."

"Exactly," Uri said, her tone enticing as she fluttered her lashes coyly. "Because, at least, you won't forget what's coming with me on top of you."

"Well said, Uri. Now I won't be able to talk to the Tenth without feeling like I'm being violated."

"And for the best of reasons, hmm?" Uri smothered a giggle against Gokudera's shoulder, feeling almost blissful and certainly regal as he carried her toward the door.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This was one of those one-shots that constantly grow. I didn't know where to finish, and I think I may have overdone it. I love 59Uri, and it's in my list of favorite pairings, but I don't think I'll be able to write another one. All in all, though, I guess I am partially satisfied with how it turned out. Thank you for reading through it! Reviews and constructive criticism are very much appreciated.


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